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[Debbie Amon]

The Lady's Restroom~
When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied.
Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall.

You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants! The dispenser for the modern 'seat cover s' (invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there was one, but there isn't - so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank down your pants, and assume ' The Stance.'

In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake. You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold 'The Stance.'

To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, 'Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toile t paper!' Your thigh s shake more.

You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your purse. (Oh yeah , the purse around your neck, that now, you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smaller than your thumbnail.

Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work. The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet. 'Occupied!' you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT. It is wet of course. You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. You r bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that t here was any, even if you had taken time to try. You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you're certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, 'You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get.'

By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that covers your butt and runs down your legs and into your shoes. The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too.

At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks.
You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting.

You are no longer able to smile politely to them. A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tell her warmly, 'Here, you just might need this.'

As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used, and left the men's restroom. Annoyed, he asks, 'What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?'

This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with a public restrooms (rest??? you've GOT to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked questions about why women go to the restroom in pairs. It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your purse and hand you Kleenex under the door!

[Val Filipski]

Judy Newdom forwarded this to me. Every one of those little blue balls is a thought about something that needs to be done, a decision or a problem that needs to be solved.

A man only has only 2 balls and they consume all his thoughts.

[Val Filipski]

OMG, Debbie! I nearly fell on my office floor, I was laughing so hard at the TRUTH of your tale!

Debbie Amon said:

The Lady's Restroom~
When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied...

[Ashley Clarke]

This one makes me laugh every time!

IRISH FRUIT CAKE.

Ingredients.

A cup of Butter.
A cup of Sugar.
Four large Eggs.
A cup of Dried Fruit.
A teaspoon of Baking Soda.
A teaspoon of Salt.
A cup of Brown Sugar.
Lemon Juice.
Nuts.
A bottle of Whisky.


Method:

Sample the Whisky and check for quality.
Take a large bowl.
Check the whisky again to be sure that it is of the highest quality.
Pour one level cup and drink. Repeat.
Turn on the electric mixer, beat one cup of butter in a large fluffy bowl.
Add one spoon of sugar and beat again.
Make sure that the whisky is still OK. Cry another tup.
Turn off the mixer. Break two leggs and add to the bowl and chuck in the cup of dried fruit. Mix on the turner. If the fruit gets stuck in the beaters, pry it loose with a drawscriver.
Sample the whisky again to check for tonsisticity.
Next, sift in two cups of salt or something, who cares?
Check the whisky.
Now sift the lemon juice and strain your nuts. Add one babblespoon of brown sugar, or whatever colour you can find. Wix mel. Grease the oven. Turn the cake pan to 350 gradees.
Do not forget to beat off the turner.
Throw the bowl out of the window, check the whisky again, and bo to ged.

[Ashley Clarke]

A Thought for the Day...

As Ben Franklin said: In wine there is wisdom, in beer there is
freedom, in water there is bacteria. In a number of carefully
controlled trials, scientists have demonstrated that if we drink one
liter of water each day, at the end of the year we would have absorbed more than one kilo of the E-coli - bacteria found in feces. In other words, we would be consuming 1 kilo of poop. However, we do NOT run that risk when drinking wine and beer (or tequila, rum, whiskey & other liquor) because alcohol has to go through purification process of boiling, filtering and/or fermenting.

Remember: Water = poop
Wine = health

Therefore, it is better to drink alcohol and talk stupid than to
drink water and be full of ****. There is no need to thank me for
this valuable information. I'm doing this as a public service.